Sold Out
by Sparty the Bold
Summary: A comedy about a customer at a Hyrulean merchandise store that just can't take a hint. / Oneshot


"**Sold Out"**

A Legend of Zelda Short Story

Written by Sparty

_**Author's Note: **__Here's a short story that I wrote one night while I was in Poland. I was accustomed to writing down ideas and short stories in a tiny notebook, which was also the case with this one. I stowed it away, all but forgotten, but finally, about four years later, I unearthed it. Enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer:** I don't own the Legend of Zelda franchise, but I retain the right to having fun with its characters._

"What do you mean, 'sold out'?"

The brutish man wearing a hide jacket shrugged his meaty shoulders after eying the small man that had just entered his shop. "It means what it's supposed to mean," he answered gruffly, divulging only this vague response.

The younger and much smaller man's frustration stacked every moment he stood before the larger figure. He sputtered, "But I was just here a week ago and there were plenty of arrows for sale!"

"Last week's business isn't this week's business; we're sold out."

"But...but this is ridiculous!" the other stammered. "And I'll tell you why it's ridiculous! I _always_ buy my supply of arrows here. You should _know_ that because you're the one I always purchase them from. I should have some sort of preferred customer's reward for coming here so often, but instead I'm treated to this! I shouldn't have to remind you that today is a week before the great horseback archery contest, and I still need more practice."

The shop owner raised an eyebrow. "_You're_ going to compete in the horseback archery contest?"

There was a moment of silence. "What are you suggesting?" squeaked the small man.

The larger of the two let out a light chuckle then snorted in his amusement. "What happened to all the other arrows that I sold you? You _do _remember the 150 or so arrows that you bought from me within the last few weeks. You seem to run out of them mighty fast."

"You're one to talk," he shot back. "At least I'm not the one who's sold out."

The tall man half curled his lip and softly, yet audibly replied, "Touche, little man." He coughed and said, "Business has been good lately. Besides, you said it yourself that there's an upcoming contest in archery, and this store just happens to stock up on arrows. Is it truly a wonder that there aren't any left?"

"But if I don't have arrows how can I possibly be ready to compete by next week?"

"Look. I can't magically produce arrows out of thin air. There are none currently in stock." He paused, eying his nervously twitching customer, then let out a sigh. "I'm afraid there's nothing that can be done except to wish you the best of luck next week at the contest." He offered the smaller man a wide grin, albeit devoid of sincerity as it was.

"You're...you're impossible!" he cried as he flung his arms up in exasperation.

The shop owner just shook his head. "No, I'm just sold out."

The little man clenched his fists tightly. "I need those arrows," he growled.

"Do you really intend to continue taking that tone with me?" the man in the hide tunic nonchalantly flexed the large muscles in his arms and on his barrel of a chest.

The little man slammed a fist down on the counter, across from which the shop owner just gave an amused look. "You can't talk this way to me! I'm a customer, you know. You're lucky your boss isn't here to see such treatment in his store."

The shop owner suddenly broke out into an uncontrolled laughter, which sent the small man back a step in confusion. "Hey, shorty, _I am_ the boss. I own and manage this shop. All these goods are mine to sell. And you," he said while pointing a thick finger at the vertically-challenged man, "are making a scene in my store."

A customer walked by and muttered nearly under his breath, yet to no one in particular, "Yeah, I'm so offended."

The small man watched the customer shuffle by. "Clearly," he stated, unamused.

The shop owner tapped the fingers of his right hand rhythmically on the counter-top and asked, "Yup. An offended customer. Time for you to get going."

"I still don't have any arrows!"

The big man silently ground his teeth together, annoyance just about to burst through his cool composure. As if to save him from any unsightly thing he could have and possibly would have done to the pesky customer the door to his shop opened up, and a trim figure wearing a green tunic and hat walked through, confidence in his every step.

"Stagg!" the new arrival cried out cheerfully upon seeing the owner of the shop. He walked right up to the counter just next to where the smaller man was standing.

"Link!" Stagg replied. His voice boomed with the joy of seeing a good friend. He reached out with one of his huge hairy hands to shake Link's. "You're just in time!"

"Ah, you mean that my order's ready," asserted Link as he gave a quick nod.

"Your order," started the bigger man and scratched his scruffy head. "Now, which order was that again?"

Link laughed. "Aw, c'mon, Stagg. You can't fool me."

"Fool you? You, the king of all fools? And I only say this because you have got to be one crazy fool to sign up for that horseback archery contest."

"I take offense at that," muttered the small man, unnoticed, while Link began speaking again.

"Well, I'm not turning back now, that's for sure," Link assured his friend. "So enough stalling already. Where's my order?"

"Oh, you mean the forty-five specially-made arrows that you preordered?"

"Yup, those are the ones."

The small man standing next to Link harrumphed and shook his head. "Sorry," he said, almost regretfully, "but you're too late. This guy's all sold out of arrows." Just at that moment Stagg reached down behind the counter and pulled up a few bundles of arrows tied together by twine cords. The small man's jaw suddenly dropped, his ability to say anything else momentarily gone.

"Now, there may be a few extra here," explained Stagg, "but I just didn't want there to be too little, y'know?"

Link whistled and ran a finger along the shaft of an arrow. "Nice work, as always. How much do I owe you?"

Stagg shrugged. "I'd say twenty-five rupees is fair."

Link tossed the big man a shiny amethyst rupee piece. "Well, there may be a bit extra there, but I just don't want there to be too little, y'know?"

Stagg hummed as he mulled over the shiny gem, and Link gathered up his new arrows from off the counter. "The thing I love most about doing business with you is your attitude," said Stagg after a moment.

"How so?" queried Link.

"No matter what, you're positive, whether it's good business, or mediocre, or...um...good business. What I'm saying is that you leave us all with good feelings. Rumor has it it's the hero in you, but a hero of business? That's somethin' for sure."

Link smiled at that. "Hero of business, eh? I don't know if it's catchy enough."

"Fine, fine, we'll just leave the title at Hero of Time."

Link, bundle in tow, walked toward the exit of the shop. "Well, I'll see you at the contest," he called back to Stagg from within the exit's doorframe.

"Wouldn't want to miss the king of fools, now, would I?" he called back just as the door closed shut behind the green-clad hero. It was then that the shop owner noticed the small man still standing in front of his counter. He had a look of disgust showing on his small, red face.

"Sold out?" snarled the little person, nostrils flaring. "Really?"

Stagg just nodded in the affirmative. "Right. Sold out."

The End


End file.
